Retrospective
by crazy-lil-nae-nae
Summary: Most people think Wufei is just a sexist pig. What if there is more to the story? One shot rated for language and mentions of Yaoi. Re-posted formerly Healing Time!


Wufei sat back on his heels with a barely audible sigh. He was almost finished with repairs on his Gundam. The Pilots had all taken quite a beating in the last battle. They were forced to take shelter out in this God-forsaken desert near the Egypt-Libya border. With no place big enough to hide the suits, they were forced to camouflage in the sand dunes.

'I had to pick the hottest part of the day for maintenance,' he thought to himself before taking off his shirt, making sure not to lose the necklace that held his wedding ring in the process. 'Duo would love to see this, I bet,' he thought to himself while trailing his fingers over the tattoo that covered his entire back and part of his chest and arms. He got it shortly before meeting the other pilots, partly as a reminder of his late wife, and partly for his own enjoyment.

The tattoo was if a traditional Chinese Dragon surrounding a sword and a large Sakura tree that sported the Kanji for 'honor', 'sacrifice', 'death', 'birth', 'triumph', 'war', 'family', and 'peace' on its bark. The tree stemmed from his tailbone upwards onto his shoulders and neck, stopping just short if his hairline. The sword hovered in the middle of the branches of the tree. Surrounding both the tree and the sword were a mixture of Sakura blossoms and flames. The dragon, though, was the best part of the whole tattoo. The tail began in the middle of his left thigh, spinning around and upwards into the tree. From there, it span across his chest and through the tree on his back in beautiful patterns, finally coming across his shoulder and down his right arm. The head of the dragon stopped on his forearm, though the tongue kept going to eventually surround his wrist and stop on the back of his hand. The dragon was a deep purple, almost black in color, at the tail, gradually fading to a light, almost white color, at the nose.

Master O had told him that is was breathtaking. None of the other pilots knew about the tattoo, since he made it a point not to take off his shirt in their presence, though in this heat, he didn't much care if the world knew of it.

He knew what the others thought of him. His attitude and demeanor made him seem stuck up and had a negative affect on his outward appearance. He was, in fact, a handsome guy. He had a dark, golden complexion, with dark eyes and hair. He was also very muscular, hard not to be while piloting a Gundam in a war, he just kept that fact hidden under layers of baggy clothing.

He also had a rather large sense of humor, he enjoyed reading, and he was a really good cook, but in a war, he was forced to push such traits to the back of his mind and concentrate on training to stay alive.

He really didn't mind all the pranks Duo pulled on the four of them, and it was probably the only thing that kept them all sane. He was, though, very protective of his sword. It was the first and last gift his wife had given him before her death, so he didn't want it to be harmed.

Their marriage was an arranged one. His first sight of his wife had been on their wedding day. At the time, he thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. They were such different people with different ideals they fought more often than not. He had thought they were just beginning to become friends when she died. His whole life changed that day.

Merian had given him the gift of his sword the very morning they were attacked. He would tell Duo to be careful with it, but he would want a reason, and that was a place he wasn't prepared to venture yet. He wasn't ready to tell the others about Merian. He hadn't come to terms with her death himself. Until he was ready to accept her fate, he didn't want the others to pry.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he picked up his wrench and continued with his work. Just a few more hours of sweating, and he could rest.

Two hours later found Wufei putting away his last grease rag and grabbing his shirt. Lifting it to his face to wipe away the sweat, he walked back toward the safe house. He was deep in thought, brooding about his past and cursing himself for stirring up the painful memories. Clenching his shirt in his fist, he struggled to regain control of his warring emotions.

He wasn't consciously aware that he had already arrived at the house until he entered the kitchen. Freezing in the doorway for a split second, he made his way to the refrigerator.

He looked up from his place at the fridge when he heard a gasp behind him. Cursing himself for being careless and giving himself a swift mental kick in the ass for not paying more attention to his surroundings, he glanced backward. Duo's fork clattered to his plate, scattering his lunch over the table. Four pairs of wide eyes met his. Once more berating himself for his stupidity, he calmly grabbed a bottle of water and made his way to sit at the table.

Quatre spoke first, "Wufei, what…" his voice trailed off and Duo took over.

"What Q, here, is trying to say, is, God damn, boy, where the fuck did you get that big ass tattoo on your back?"

Sighing again, he kept his head down, "I don't think that is any of your concern, Duo," he stated calmly, "it is something that happened in my past before I met you, and its not important."

'Liar,' he told himself silently praying that no one would call him on the obvious lie. 'damn.'

"It has to be important, that's the whole reason for tattoos! I have never seen that ring before, either!"

Great, Duo has started to yell. Massaging away the forming headache, he shot a glare at his fellow pilot, "Duo please, just leave it alone. I don't want to think about my dead wife anymore today," he shouted before storming out of the kitchen, leaving his four friends to stare after him in shock.

It was Duo who broke the silence, "Wife?" he asked, the word coming out a high-pitched squeak, "Did Wuffers just say WIFE? As in, he was MARRIED!"

"I… I didn't even know he had been married, much less that he was a widower!" Quatre spoke in a slightly panicked tone, his hand rubbing against his chest where, "I feel… great pain and sadness coming from him. Regret. Respect? He is hurting so badly." Quatre was panicking by this point, and Trowa gently took him by the hand and led him away.

Duo turned his gaze to Heero, who, by this point, had gotten over his shock and was trying to muster up the appetite to finish his meal. Sighing, Duo stood and began to clear the table, muttering to himself, "Me and my big mouth. Come on, Heero, I have a feeling we wont be finishing out lunch."

With that, Heero rose from the table and began to help his companion clear the table.

Wufei lay on his bed in the room he shared with Duo and Heero trying and failing, not to cry. Giving up all hope of retaining his composure, he turned to bury his face in his pillow and began to cry. It was the first chance he had to grieve for his lost wife. He had put it off for so long, and all the buried feelings came exploding to the surface.

He hadn't known what love was while she was still alive. They were still children and he resented the fact that he was forced into marriage so young. It was only after she was gone that he realized where his true feelings lay.

She was the strongest woman he had aver known, maybe not in physical strength, but in a… different kind of strength. Even though he could easily beat her in a fight, and he had several times, he still held a deep respect for her. She never gave up fighting, even at the end. As strong as she was, she still died, and he had yet to meet another woman he respected more than her

That was why he refused to fight women. As strong as they may be, they still died. He held a deep amount of respect for most women he met, and his attitude toward them, most would call it sexist, was his way of trying to protect them.

Most people he meets think that he is just a sexist pig, thinking that men were better than women. How wrong they were. His feelings were the exact opposite. Even the worst woman, in his opinion, deserved respect. That was why he refused to fight them. That was why he said women shouldn't fight. Women that fight die. Merian taught him that.

Merian.

Burrowing further into his pillow and curling up, he silently cried. He cried for Merian, he cried for his family, he cried for all women who had died in this pointless war, he cried for all the innocent people who died so he could continue to fight in a war he did not believe in.

Suddenly feeling a warm hand on his shoulder and a dip in the bed, he froze. Raising his head from the pillow, he saw two familiar faces. Heero and Duo. They were looking at him with such sad faces. He was shocked when Duo lay down beside him and hugged him, and even more so when Heero climbed over the two of them to hug him from the other side.

Held in their protective embrace, he let go of the last of his restraint and sobbed, finally allowing himself to grieve for those he had lost. The three of them fell asleep shortly thereafter, still holding on to one another.

Shutting the door softly and turning around to embrace his lover, Quatre smiled softly.

"Do you think he will be okay, little one?" Trowa asked softly.

"Yes, I think with those two to help him, he will be just fine." Quatre responded just as soft, "Now, I need a nap after all that has happened today. Let's follow their example and go to bed."

Trowa smiled at his three companions through the door, hoping his love would be right, "Yea, lets go take a nap." So saying, he turned with his lover, leaving behind two caring souls and one that was finally starting to heal.


End file.
